


The True Story of How Freddy Bailey Launched the Career of Mr. E.A. Poe, or, A Tale of How a Baltimore Slave Boy Influenced World Literature

by JobyTaylor



Category: Frederick Douglass - Fandom, POE Edgar Allan - Works
Genre: Alternate Histories, Baltimore, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JobyTaylor/pseuds/JobyTaylor
Summary: The story is set in 1834 Baltimore and told through the eyes of a young Baltimore Boy who is friends with a young Freddy Bailey (aka, Frederick Douglass).  As they hang around the shipyards teaching themselves to read and listening for sailor stories from their voyages across the seas, they have a chance encounter with the aspiring author, Mr. E.A. Poe.  Poe, looking for ideas for his stories, compels the boys to tell him some stories.  Freddy, already quite a public speaker, spins a tale or two for Mr. Poe.  Later, the boys are surprised to read elements of their stories published in the Baltimore newspaper by none other than Mr. Poe.  And so we learn that the boy who would become Frederick Douglass, was actually the source of Poe's first published story, M.S. Found in a Bottle.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	The True Story of How Freddy Bailey Launched the Career of Mr. E.A. Poe, or, A Tale of How a Baltimore Slave Boy Influenced World Literature

**Author's Note:**

> Author Note: In the early 1800s, Baltimore was a thriving port city. It had a diverse mix of people including long settled colonial whites, slaves, free blacks, and new immigrants from many origins. In the late 1820s and early 1830s a young teen, Freddy Bailey (later known as Frederick Douglass) shared his Baltimore home with a young 20 something, Edgar Allan Poe. Freddy was learning the shipyard trades and teaching himself how to read and write at the same time that Poe was writing and shopping his first stories. It is not only possible, but likely, that Bailey and Poe would have crossed paths in downtown Baltimore. It is also undoubtable that the many young wharf boys would have gobbled up Poe’s first published story—a haunting tale of a ghost ship adrift on the high seas! 
> 
> Scene: A busy and bustling day on the ship yards of Baltimore”s Fells Point in Spring of 1833.

“Hey Freddy, Come on…Here it comes!” 

I pointed out across the pier from Fells Point and down the port. There was a tall ship coming around Fort McHenry and heading for us. It would be here soon, and we’d be there to help the sailors unload...and maybe we’d get a story or two from their travels (and a penny to spend for candy). You never knew where they were coming from. Sometimes it was as close as Virginia or New York or somewhere, but other times those guys were hitting land for the first time in weeks (or longer) coming from England or somewhere, or even farther from places we’d never even heard of or imagined. The sailors were always full of stories and we didn't even care if they were all true or not! Those sailors were always in a hurry to get to a tavern, so if we were quick to jump in a help them unload, they’d usually give us a tale or two of where they’d just been. They’d tell us about seeing whales bigger than their ship that could of sunk them with a swipe of their tale. And about escaping pirates who would have stole their cargo and made them all walk the plank right into the ocean. (They said it was only because the Baltimore Clippers we build right here in Fells were so fast, they made a quick getaway!) They’d go on about seein all kinds of crazy animals from jungles or islands we’d never heard tell of…and once in a while one of them would have a monkey or bird or something else cool to show off. Then, a course there were some that talked about mermaids and monsters and ghosts that haunted the seas. 

That’s mostly why Freddy and I and a few other kids that lived in Fells were always hanging around the piers to pass the time. Maybe someday I’d even step aboard one of those ships and go have my own adventures. I knew Freddy couldn’t, him being a slave and all for the Auld family, but it was still fun to think about. 

“Hold up, I’m coming Lou!” Freddy hollered back as he ran down Thames Street toward me. I liked Freddy. He was always game to go exploring and see what kind of mischief we could find...Nothing serious like that would get us in trouble, but least enough so’s we weren’t bored and just sitting around. 

My name’s Louis Washington, at least that’s what my ma calls me when she’s upset, but all the other kids just call me Lou. Like a lot of folks in Baltimore, my family are free blacks. My grandpa came to the city after he was freed on account of his master switching from growing tobacco to growing wheat and didn’t really need any of the older slaves anymore. The way my pa tells it, that wasn’t the end of our troubles, cause it was still hard to make money to live on, and it don’t mean white folks really treated us much different. But it did mean we could come to the city and find a way to have our own small place. So, my pa works on the ships when he can and my mom takes in wash for folks and we’re poor but we make it. Slavery’s scary here, cause anytime they want they can sell you off, split up your family, and of course, beat you for just about any reason. I mostly forget Freddy’s a slave when we’re running around the docks, but then I see a ship sailing out with slaves loaded on it from the pens down on Pratt Street and I figure they’re headin down deep South for the cotton or sugar plantations, and I thank god I’m free and I say a little prayer that Freddy don’t get shipped off. 

Anyway, since I was born here, I pretty much knew my way around town. Freddy had been here awhile, maybe since I was about ten or so. Right from the day we met he was curious and always asking questions about my house and folks and stuff around town, and I didn’t mind telling him what I knew. It felt good to have someone to talk to and hang with. He’d sailed over when he was maybe eight or so from over Eastern Shore, making it around 1826 or thereabouts. He knew all kinds of stuff about the country and the farm, but didn’t know nothin about the city...said he’d never even had a pair of shoes til now. He didn’t say much about family; that was the one thing he was quiet about. Don’t think he even knew anyone except maybe his grandma a little bit. That’s something I didn’t get. Why the folks with slaves were so crazy about breaking up their families and not letting them get married, or have anything for their own, or even allowing them to go to school or learn anything. 

I never minded much that I couldn’t go to school myself--mostly meant that after chores we were pretty free to run around when the white kids had to go to school--but still Freddy was always askin me about it and what I thought they were learnin and why. He was super curious like that, especially about learning his abc’s and all. He’d even find stuff for us to trade with the other kids to get them to tell us about it. There was a kid, Sean O’Malley, who was always lookin for a trade or a bet, and Freddy could always get him talkin. He started by taking him pieces of paper he found blowin down the cobble stones and he’d say something like: “Hey Sean, we heard you were about the smartest kid in school. Bet you can’t read this.” Next thing you know, Sean was sounding out the words on the paper with Freddy leanin in next to him askin more questions. “What’s that mark there?” and “What’s that long word mean?” After awhile, Sean caught on, and he liked us pretty good anyway, so Freddy would bring a roll or biscuit or something he snuck from the Auld’s and give it to Sean so he’d keep readin stuff. 

Well, we’d been workin at learning that stuff together for awhile now, and, honestly, I think Freddy was getting better than Sean (and way better than me). But he never acted that way, and he still usually played dumber than he was around all the other boys, just to see if they might still learn him anything else. I knew he also played dumb to keep the white boys from gettin mad at him and the other slave kids to keep from tellin on him and gettin him in big trouble. Freddy wasn’t one to get scared or back down from no one, but that don’t mean he went lookin for trouble either! 

Somewhere, I can’t remember exactly how, Freddy got ahold of a little ragged book called Columbia Orator. It had a bunch of famous speeches and stuff written in it. Freddy studied on that like it was the Bible. One day, he came up to me real excited and asked “Lou, come on, I wanna show you something” We went running down the docks and ducked into the quiet little alley street Strawberry Lane where Freddy and my family’s church was. Freddy made me stand in the street and he stepped up on the church steps and commenced to give a perfect speech with arms waving and shoutin and all. Wow, that boy was crazy, but I couldn’t stop thinking on how he’d memorized that whole thing from that book and been practicing and practicing. Afterwards he made me swear I’d never say nothin to nobody. I swore, but he made me swear again on my ma, just to be sure. “Lord, Freddy, I swore already.” He told me this wasn’t no joke and that it could get him killed or sold South forever. He said one time his Master, Mr. Auld, caught him and Mrs. Auld practicing letters and he got spittin mad. Cursed at his own wife right in front of Freddy. Told her she’d ruin him for workin forever if she filled his mind with learnin and ideas from books. Freddy said then he whipped him good and didn’t give him any supper. Freddy said right then, he knew readin and writin must be pretty powerful stuff and he made up his mind to learn it no matter what. I never seen anyone so crazy about learning something, but he was still fun and liked doin other stuff too, so we kept running together. 

Freddy didn’t have to worry about me talkin. Mostly cause he was my friend, but also cause I liked him practicing his speeches on me and didn’t want him to have to stop. Lots of times neither of us even knew what all the words meant but it was fun to see him get all worked up like he was talking to a big crowd or preaching to his own church. Sometimes, stead of memorizing some stiff old speech, Freddy would start telling a story of his own, usually something we’d heard from the sailors down here, but then we’d start adding all kinds of stuff and making it real interesting. He’d say, “Lou, what do you think should happen next?” and I’d say whatever crazy thing came into my head. And man would he tell it!

One day, we was around that same Strawberry Lane alley and Freddy was really getting into one of his stories when a fancy man, all dressed up proper, walked by. He must have heard us, cause about a minute later he came right back around towards us. He tipped his hat, and said “Good morning boys.” Well, you sure know that about scared the wits out of us, him bein a white gentleman and all, we thought we must really be in for it! “Now, now, my good young men, Cat got your tongue?” 

“Good morning, Sir” we mustered up the courage to say. Then he jumped right in… “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mr. Edgar Allan Poe. I’m pretty new around here…come up from Virginia. Now, I heard you boys carrying on about something, and I want you to tell me all about it.” Dangit, now we were really in for it. All what Freddy was afraid of (and me too) was about to start happening. Before Freddy could say something or run off, I said: “Gee Mister, we weren’t doin nothin wrong; just telling stories to each other to pass the time. We won’t do it anymore, I promise.” 

“Young men, you have me all wrong here. Telling me that story you were relating in such an animated manner, is exactly what I want you to do…and I’m on my way to meet someone, so I need you to begin narrating your tale to me right this very moment.” Now, can you imagine us two fellas, standing there in the alley with our mouths wide open but scared to say a word…and Mr. E.A. Poe starring us down with his hands on his hips and ordering us to get right to it? I was just thinking of running, when Freddy stepped up “Mister, it was just a story we made up from stuff we hear the sailors goin on about.” “Exactly,” said Mr. Poe, “And I am a storyteller myself, a writer really, and I’m always on the hunt for a good story, so go ahead and speak up!” Sure as you know, Freddy straighten up like he did when he was starting a speech, and then he commenced to telling that man the biggest whopper about a ship that got lost in a storm at sea and all the men got thrown overboard when the ship started breakin up. When the sky cleared the next morning, there was just this one guy left hanging on to a couple boards for dear life. The way Freddy told it this time, that guy floated up to an island with nobody else on it but him…And there he lived for the rest of his life, never seeing another soul again. Freddy added in a part about a bottle washing up on shore one day and him writing down his story with charcoal sticks on big leaves and rolling it up in that bottle and tossing it out to float away and maybe, just maybe, it would get found someday. That was sure a good one. Mr. Poe never said a word the whole time…just listened and nodded or said “hmmm” or “Uhuh” a couple times. Then he said: “Well boys (he never asked us our names or nothin) you’ve made me late for my meeting. So, now you’ll owe me another story the next time.” And off he went down the cobble stones. We peeked and saw him turn into the “Horse Saloon”• and thought, “Sure he’s goin to a meeting.” And we laughed and ran off the other way glad to just be alive.

Sure enough, about a week later around the same time, we saw Mr. Poe again, down in Fells. We could hear him askin around after a couple boys. That scared us again that he’d start causin trouble for us by saying what we was doing. We waited until he was by himself and then we sneaked up ahead and then walked back passed him so he’d see us. 

“Oh, there you boys are! You still owe me a story you know.” He pointed around the corner to a quiet spot and said, “Well…I’m waiting.” Me and Freddy looked at each other, and then said at the same time, “Good morning, Sir.” “Boys, I’m a busy man and don’t have time for that. What do you have for me today?” I said, “Hey Freddy, there’s that one about the ghosts we heard. You remember?” Freddy stepped right up without a hitch. “Well, sir…There was this other time that a ship set out right from here planning to go clear to a place full of jungles and all kind of wild things. Anyway, that’s not the adventure they got.” Mr. Poe was caught. Freddy went on and told all about that ship getting caught by a bunch of pirates on the biggest ship they’d ever seen, only the pirates were old grey beards and before long they realized they were on a ghost ship full of dead (but not dead) pirates. He kept telling it until they went clear to the end of the world, which was really a big hole where all the water of the ocean swirled and went down into the dark. “Wow,” I thought, that might be the biggest whopper Freddy had ever made up. Mr. Poe gave us each a penny and said. “Thank you boys. I release you from your services.” He tipped his hat and went on down the road. We saw him turn into the same tavern as before, before we ran off part scared and part excited. 

Now, it was some time later, maybe on past summer and towards the start of fall, that Freddy and me were back to hanging around with Sean and his buddies seeing what they were up to, that we caught them reading something from part of the newspaper. It was the Baltimore Saturday Visitor and there was man were they all hovered around like a bunch of hens. We walked up and saw that there was a sailor there in the middle, all tattoo’d and look’d pretty fresh off the boat. He was the one readin and telling the boys that this was every bit true. He’d heard tell exactly like this so help him God and all. Sean saw us and waved it was okay for us to sneak up in the group and listen. The sailor wasn’t the best reader, but he was sounding it out okay…A story all about a man getting caught in a storm then tossed on to huge ship full of ghosts and sailing to the end of the world with all them ghosts haunting around him. Freddy looked at me, and I looked him right back with our eyes wide open. It was all we could do to keep from bustin at the seams. Cross my heart and hope to die, it was all made up of parts of Freddy’s stories! We were still lookin at each other when the sailor finished, “And right before the ship plunged into the hole at the end of the world, I took the bottle with my story and flung it overboard into the sea. And, he said, I reckon he meant for someone like me or you to find it floatin up to shore right here in Fells!” Ain’t that the dangdest thing you’ve ever heard? 

Wasn’t but a few days later, when who came strolling down the street just as proper and proud as you imagine. Yep, Mr. E.A. Poe, and he was carrying a newspaper in his hand. He saw us before we could duck out of sight. “Boys” he hollered “…Just who I was looking for. Come here now, I’ve got something for you.” We walked over slow and cautious. This guy always kinda scared us. Wasn’t that he’d ever got real mad or anything. He just had a strange look in his eyes and we couldn’t never figure him. Anyway, he stepped up and handed me the paper. “Page 2, boys. Hope you like the story; it’s a prize winner.” He gave a wink to us and started to leave, then turned back. “Freddy wasn’t it?” he said “I wouldn’t be surprised if this makes you famous someday.” He winked again and walked away. 

Soon as he was gone, Freddy and I hustled to a corner and opened the paper. There at the top we read: “M.S. Found in a Bottle. A story by E.A. Poe” 

The End

Postscript: We didn’t see Mr. Poe after that, least not to talk to him or have him seek us out for some more stories. But we would look for his stories whenever we heard something. No more sailor stories, but lots of scary ghost stuff that scared us terrible, but it was the kind of stories we just couldn’t stop readin. As for Freddy, guess he did get famous later, but it wasn’t on account of giving Mr. Poe his first story and more about his speeches and him knowin Mr. Lincoln and all. Long after he’d used his readin and writin to forge his manumission papers and hop a B&O train north to escape Baltimore and slavery, he’d still write me a letter every so often. They were always signed with a name you might of heard of: Very Truly Yours, Frederick Douglass.


End file.
